Alone protects me
by SMakarov
Summary: (Enola Holmes in the BBC Sherlock Universe) Enola Holmes ran away from home when she was 14, following her mother's death. Now, 4 years later, the youngest Holmes sister in back in London, and she's neck deep in exactly what Mycroft and Sherlock stand against. She's trying to leave the life behind, but getting out of crime isn't as easy as she hoped. Criminal!Enola R&R!


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**A/N: This is going to be a different take on Enola, so don't expect the same 14 year old sweet girl :) She's a bit more of a badass in my verse. Hope you enjoy it!**

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A man opened the heavy metal door and stepped into the warehouse. The door shut quietly behind him. There was a dingy and almost…scary feel to the warehouse. A bluish light filtered through the small glass window on the roof and hit the center of the ground. Surrounding it, there seemed to be nothing but darkness. It was fairly warm, but the intimidating air of the place made the man pull his coat closer to his lean frame and pop the collars so that they gently brushed against his high cheekbones.

The door opened again. The man immediately walked into the darkness, allowing the dark shadows to envelope him completely so that he could watch the other party. The one who had asked him to come in the first place.

The new person was a male, roughly in his 30s, rather plump but still quite tall. He had an umbrella in his hand. The man turned towards the center, and as his face was bathed in pale blue light, the first man scowled in recognition and stepped out into the light. The second man jerked slightly in surprise, but he too frowned.

"Sherlock? Tell me this was urgent – I've got to see a very important man in a few hours and I _don't _want to be late!" The second man scolded.

"I know, Mycroft. The fact that you're wearing a new coat and that your shoes are shining so much they could well me emitting their own light tells me that already. But I'm not the one who called you here, dear brother." Sherlock replied smoothly.

Mycroft frowned. "What? Then who? Did you get the text too?" Sherlock nodded. "Someone clearly went to great lengths to orchestrate this meeting. And seeing that it's only the two of us, I'd say it's something to do with our family."

"And you'd be quite right, Sherlock." A clear voice announced from within the darkness. Both Mycroft's and Sherlock's heads whipped in the direction of the voice. A slight click was heard, and a light bulb turned on. The darkness disappeared and in its place was a table. But Sherlock was more interested in what was on the table.

Or rather, who.

"Hi." The slim, raven haired girl greeted. She was wearing a red checkered shirt with a black blazer over it. Her legs, which were adorned with black skinny jeans paired with dark boots to match, were swinging back and forth as they hung over the edge of the table. Sherlock couldn't see that well in the dim light, but her ebony eyes, pink lips, long lashes and high cheekbones seemed familiar.

"And just _who_ are you?" Mycroft questioned. The girl sighed and pressed her palm to her face. "Oh tell me you just seriously didn't ask me that? You're practically the British Government itself and you can't even recognize your own blood sister? I really worry about Britain's future."

Sherlock perked up and frowned at the young girl. "…Enola?" Mycroft slowly asked. Enola looked up. "Well at least you remember my name…I guess that's an improvement." She muttered.

Mycroft and Sherlock glanced at each other. Their sister, Enola was back? Mycroft turned to face her and spoke, while Sherlock chose to remain silent and observe her. "You ran away 4 years ago. After…"

"After Mummy died." Enola finished for him. "Yes, I did run away."

"Why are you here now?"

"I was born here; it makes sense for me to want to come back and live here after my little…escapade." She watched Mycroft intently, as if analyzing him. "Besides, I've got things to take care of."

After a long pause, Mycroft spoke again. "Come with me, then. I could take care of you." Enola chuckled. "I'm not here to ask for money or food or a place to stay at. I just thought I should…tell you I'm here before you found out some other way or something." She shrugged, and consulted her watch. "Sorry for bothering you. You're going to get late for the meeting, so I guess I'll have to cut this short. Goodbye, brothers." Enola smiled, slid off the table, and begun to walk around it.

"Stop."

Enola paused and turned around. She smiled slightly. "Sherlock. I was beginning to worry you had gone mute."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. "You've been in America all this while." Enola laughed. "I take it you still haven't stopped doing that 'deducing' thing. Let me guess, my accent?"

"Yes. Why are you here?"

Enola frowned. "I already told you; I was born here –"

"Why are you here, in this warehouse, taking to us?" Sherlock interrogated. Enola pressed her lips together. "There are approximately 8 million people in London. You didn't have to come here and tell Mycroft and myself that you're now in London; we would never have known. So the only possible reason would be that what you intend to do here will cross our paths. So what line of work would have you making contact with a detective and the government?"

The smile on Enola's face was gone. "You already know the answer to that." She said, her voice harsh. "Yes, I do."

"You're a criminal."

"I _was_ a criminal. And then…stuff happened and now I've had enough of it. I've decided to drop it…"

"But…?" Sherlock interjected.

"But I still have on last thing to do, and that's why I'm here." Enola admitted. "Look, stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. Mycroft, you're getting late. Leave. Both of you." And with one last look, she turned to leave.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Mycroft –" Enola hissed.

"You are not an adult as of yet. That makes me your guardian. Enola, you are in _my _custody –"

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Enola asked, producing a phone from her blazer's pocket. The screen showed a digital clock. Mycroft, Sherlock and Enola watched as it beeped at midnight.

"What is that –?" Mycroft asked but Sherlock interrupted, glaring at Enola. "It's the 21st of January." He turned to Mycroft. "It's her birthday."

"18th birthday, to be specific. I'm not as stupid as I was 4 years ago." Enola smirked, putting her phone back into her pocket. "I am no longer in _anyone's _custody." Mycroft sighed. "Listen Enola. You're still a young girl, and you've just gotten here –"

"Mycroft –"

"Enola, our dear brother Mycroft here is quite a powerful man. If you overstep his boundaries, there's no telling what he'll do." Sherlock tried to sway Enola.

Enola stared at the both of them. Her brothers shared a look and then they both turned to her. Mycroft was smiling slightly.

"I don't have a way out of this, do I?" Enola questioned. Mycroft shook his head. Enola sighed. "Fine. Take me." And with that, she walked towards Mycroft, who placed his hand on her back and guided her to the door, with Sherlock trailing behind.

The three of them were nearing the door, when suddenly Enola raised and bent her left leg, thrusting it backwards, successfully booting Mycroft in the shins. Said man groaned loudly, and fell forwards. Sherlock, who had had his fair share of fights, immediately grabbed Enola's arm. However, he was no match for Enola's fighting skills as she spun around and delivered a slick right cross, which had Sherlock stumbling backwards. Enola knew that that wasn't going to keep him down for long. Sherlock straightened and glared at her. "Sorry Sherlock." Enola mock apologized. "Apologizing for giving me a right cross, Enola?" " a, that was a love tap, and b, no, I was apologizing for this." Grinning, Enola turned and gave her brother a solid roundabout kick, her boot making contact with his torso as he flung backwards. She turned to face both her brothers.

"Sorry boys, but I'll be on my own. You should've gotten that from my name, you know Sherlock? Being a detective and all." Enola waved her hand in the air as both her brothers rolled around on the ground, groaning in pain. Straightening her blazer, Enola strutted out of the warehouse, the click clacks of her boots echoing down the corridor.

"Go after her!" Mycroft managed to say in between his gasps. "She hit me _twice_! Why don't you make yourself useful and go get her!" Sherlock winced. There was a pause in which both Holmes brothers panted as they slowly got to their feet. "I'll get an APW out on her." Mycroft announced. "No point. She won't be leaving London." Sherlock said. "Then what do you suggest we do?!" Mycroft asked Sherlock, exasperated. "I suggest _you _find her."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the oldest child. She's your responsibility."

"You're older than her too!"

"I'm too busy."

"I work in the Government!"

"Exactly. That means you've got absolutely nothing to do."

"Sherlock!"

"I. Am. Busy." Sherlock gave Mycroft a pointed glare as he opened the door to leave. "Why can't you kidnap her like you always kidnap John?"

"I don't know where she lives!"

"Try to find out!"

As the two older brothers argued, nearly a hundred meters away, Enola walked down a street.

"Taxi!" She called, holding her hand out as the cab came to a stop before her. Enola got into the cab and shut the door. "Where would you like to go Miss?"

"589 D Abbey Road." She instructed, and the cab pulled away from the sidewalk and began its way there. Enola pulled out her phone from her blazer's front pocket and texted.

_I'm here. In London._

_-EH_

Within minutes, she received a reply.

_Good. I'll be in contact. _

_-JM_

Enola pocketed her phone, sighing at her predicament.

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**I hope it was good! I won't really follow what's in the books, I'm more interested in incorporating Enola into the BBC Universe. Though, as you can see with the 'booting Mycroft in the shins' part, I'll drop little little bits of the book her and there :) Yes, I've decided to change her story quite a bit :P Hope you guys like Criminal!Enola, though like she said, she has dropped the crime gig, but she's got one last thing to do. Oh, and I hope you recognise the initials at the end; it's quite obvious isn't it? Haha :)**


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